Page 58 of Miss Understanding

“You don’t have to.”

“What if I need you to work and be in first class with me?”

She sighed. “Then, by all means, upgrade me.”

* * *

There were no upgrades available. Despite the fact I’d used work as an excuse to try to get her into first class, the truth was I didn’t have anything for her to do during the flight.

As with our outgoing trip, we had a brief layover in Chicago, but we barely had time before boarding another plane. Once we landed in LAX, I waited for her to come down the sky ramp.

“Do you need a ride home?” Since we both lived in South Bay, I figured I could give her a lift.

Although she seemed surprised by my offer, she simply replied with, “No, thanks.”

“I’m in Manhattan Beach, so Torrance isn’t far from me.”

“It’s okay, but thanks. Have a good weekend, Mr. Davenport. I’ll see you Monday in the office.”

I was being dismissed. She sped up and went into the ladies’ room. I briefly spotted her at baggage claim, but she didn’t so much as glance my direction. Instead, she took her suitcases up the escalator to where she was probably catching an Uber home.

Stepping into my empty house after the forty-minute drive in traffic, I waited for the relief over being home to hit me. I’d bought this place as my first major purchase. Three point five million. A view of the beach from the top floor, three bedrooms, three baths. Ultra modern. Just like the Tesla I used to commute to the office every day. Yet neither the vehicle nor the house was giving me the pleasure they normally did upon returning home to them.

I took a hot shower, a short nap, and then ordered in takeout Chinese food while looking at the clock. It was eight in the evening. I imagined Kendall was getting ready for work about now. I should probably put in a couple billable hours to make up for losing so many yesterday, but I didn’t. Instead, I sat there sipping water, trying to talk myself out of what I was about to do.

But considering I was already up and getting dressed, it was clear I wouldn’t be talked out of this. I texted Chance Maxwell, an occasional client, to ask to be put on the list for tonight. Chance was the owner of the Cheetah Club and others like it. I was sure not all of them were above board, especially in the foreign locations, but I didn’t ask, and he certainly didn’t tell me.

His text back came almost immediately. “Consider it done, my friend.”

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Kendall

After I arrived home from the airport and took a much-needed nap, I felt like a brand-new person. I hadn’t slept well last night, thinking way too much about Liam and our kiss. Then this morning’s snow-time activity hadn’t exactly inspired sleep on the plane, either. Instead, I’d been thinking about my newfound attraction to my boss. What was most disconcerting was the fact it was more than a physical thing. I was finding myself emotionally invested, too. So when he’d suggested I might go to HR to report him, I felt both a simmering anger and a healthy dose of hurt.

Then again, he was a man who seemed to have a single focus. To become a named partner. Any possible threat toward that aspiration would cause him to panic. This was exactly what he’d done. Ugh. I needed to stop obsessing and get my butt in the shower so I could get to work.

I only wished my roommate, Chloe, was around to go into the club tonight, too. Being without her made it lonely. But she deserved a weekend at home with her family. At least I’d be so busy tonight, it would go by quickly. It always did.

Dressing carefully, I chose my favorite pair of Daisy Duke denim shorts, fishnet nylons and a crop top. Although I’d never wear these clothes out in my normal daily life, they definitely fit in with the club. I capped the look off with a smoky eye and red lip.

The club was already filling up when I took my place behind the bar. Jose, the other bartender, whistled. “Damn, girl, you’re fire tonight.”

I smiled. Jose might be gay, but I’d take any male attention I could get right now. My self-esteem evidently needed it. “Thanks, Jose. Are we fully stocked?”

“Yep. I don’t think we’re out of anything.”

That was good news. There was nothing more frustrating than being down someone’s favorite liquor. Since this was a busy club, top shelf went quickly. I couldn’t see paying five hundred dollars for a bottle of Patron and some juices to go with it, but people did it every night using our bottle service.

An hour later I was into my rhythm. The club was set up with five bars. The one upstairs catered to the VIPs with the private rooms while the four down here were on all the corners of the large space. We were two bartenders to a bar, filling everything from the individual orders of people who came up to the bar to the group orders from waitresses serving the majority of patrons who didn’t want to get up out of their seats.

As far as dance clubs went, this one was upscale. Not that I had a lot of knowledge of nightclubs, but the people I worked with definitely did, and everyone said this one was classy.

“Your girl not here tonight?” Jose asked over the loud music.

“Nope. Chloe is up in Canada visiting her family this weekend.”

“She missed you last weekend. Hey, suit at the end of the bar is staring at you.”